


Gunmetal Feathers

by wordslikelightning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslikelightning/pseuds/wordslikelightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has a run in with some witches which ends in his wings becoming tangible. Dean really likes what he sees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gunmetal Feathers

The Winchester brothers were taking a few days to rest, after a particularly difficult vampire case, back at Bobby’s place. Sam was sitting at the table reading a book he had picked up a while back to read simply because he could. Dean was laying on the couch watching some movie marathon when his phone went off. Dean dug his phone out of his pants pocket, read the ID and flipped it open.  
  
“What’s up, Cas?”  
  
“Dean, I seam to have a… situation.” Castiel’s tone set Dean’s alarm bells ringing. He propped himself up on one arm, listening carefully to the angel on the other end.  
  
“What happened? What wrong?” The seriousness of Dean’s voice caused Sam to put down his book and muted the TV.  
  
There was a pause before the familiar deep voice answered. “Well, I had a run in with some witches and-”  
  
Dean’s eyes flew wide and sat up in a flash. “WHAT?! Why the hell did you go alone? We would have backed you up! Are you alright? Do we need to come get you?”  
  
“I am able to fly, but I thought it would be pertinent to warn you before I dropped in, that I was not unaffected.”  
  
“What does that mean?” Apprehension blatant in his tone.  
  
“I believe it would be easier to simply show you.”  
  
“Alright, drop by Bobby’s then. We-” Dean closed the phone when the rustle of wings sounded from behind the couch he was sitting on and if the intake of breath from Sam was anything to go by he was in for quite a sight.  
  
He was right. He was glad he was sitting down because he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him.   
  
Castiel had wings.  
  
“Son of a bitch…” Dean breathed, quiet and measured.  
  
Not the shadows that Dean had saw the first time they met face to face, but ACTUAL WINGS. Feathers and all. They were charcoal grey, darker at the joint and getting lighter at the tips with dark specks splattered across them like stars. The house was dead silent as the hunters took in the new appendages in awe. Finally Sam, forever practical, asked him to explain how it happened. They moved into the kitchen, pulling up a low stool for Castiel to sit on, a wing on each side.  
  
An hour later Cas had just finished telling, in excruciating detail, how he was essentially ambushed by witches, incapacitated, cursed, and woke up in an abandoned warehouse with two too many limbs. He believed that the spell the witches cast did not give him the wings, but rather allowed them to manifest in this form.  
  
Sam had taken notes throughout the retelling while Dean kept staring at the glossy feathers, spellbound. He excused himself, saying that he was heading into the library to research a way to reverse it.  
  
Dean whistles, “Well, they sure are awesome. Are you sure you want to get rid of them?” The smaller man didn’t answer, only looked down to his hand. Dean had noticed that the longer they had been sitting, the twitchier Castiel’s wings had gotten.   
  
“Hey, Cas? They don’t hurt you do they?”  
  
“No, they just… I am just not used to them. And they are beginning to itch.” He shifts on his stool, still not lifting his blue eyes.  
  
“Would it be alright if-” Dean trails off. “Do you…want help?”  
  
Castiel nodded quickly, squirming on the stool. “If it would not be too much trouble, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
  
Dean moved to stand behind the angel and reached out tentatively, laying his hand on the ridge. The feathers feel softer than cashmere against his calloused hands. He smoothed down the mussed feathers, noticing the tension drain out of the angel with each touch.  
  
Dean was mesmerized by the feeling, unable to stop touching them. He saw some of the larger flight feathers were out of place or looked painfully twisted. “Cas, do you want me to fix the big ones too?”  
  
All the angel could do is nod. Dean ran his fingers through the gunmetal plumage from the back, before moving to kneel beside Castiel’s stool to reach the smaller, dense feathers. As he worked, he heard the winged man’s breath turn ragged. Dean lookd up to see his hands clenched in the fabric of his trench coat and eyes screwed shut. The hunter immediately removed his fingers, thinking he was causing the angel pain. “Oh man, I’m sorry, you should have said-” His apologies were cut off by the heat he found in the angel’s eyes when they met his.  
  
“No. D-don’t stop, please.” His voice was completely wrecked, the consistency of gravel in a blender. The sight made Dean’s breath catch in his throat.  
  
It hadn’t escaped his notice that the angel was attractive. Hell, how could he not have noticed when every time they were on a case Cas attracted lingering glances like vamps to a blood bank. Not that it made him jealous. Not at all. If he was in a funk for hours after, it was purely a coincidence, no matter what Sammy said. What did he know anyway?  
  
But with that look trained on him, it was almost more than he could handle. He slid a hand down the length of the wing while he moved closer the the man, still on his knees. From this height, Dean nose was level with Castiel’s chin. The hunter kept one hand stroking the feathers and the other snaked up to cup the back of the other’s head. Dean’s fingers twisted in the dark strands while his nose traced over the stubble covered jaw, he felt the angel’s stuttering breath against his his face.  
  
Castiel parted his lips and that was enough invitation for Dean. He pulled Cas’ head down and to press their lips together.  
  
It was better than he could have imagined. Castiel’s lips were soft, but slightly chapped and absolutely perfect. The drag of stubble across his chin pulls muffled noises from Dean he didn’t know he could make.  
  
When Castiel started kissing back, turning them open mouthed and sloppy, Dean tried to move closer. Unable to get as close as he’d like he growls in frustration. He moved his hands to the angel’s waist, lifted him up, nudged the stool against the wall and switched their positions, placing Cas in his lap. Dean’s arms wrapped around the other man’s middle and settled his hands into the first feathers he finds.  
  
The sensation caused Castiel to throw his head back and Dean took the opportunity to mark his way down his neck.  
  
If Dean could make his angel look like this just from these touches, he was looking forward to what he would look like later.  
  
...  
  
As they lay in bed catching their breath, tangled together and blanketed by smoky feathers, Dean watches Castiel’s face where it is pillowed on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through Cas’ messy hair and peppered his forehead with light kisses.  
  
He began to wonder when he turned into such a girl, until Castiel opened his eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.   
  
Yeah.  
  
It doesn’t matter if he can see that everyday.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I don't own anything, I just like to play here. The writers and creators get all the credit for making such wonderful places and characters.  
> Most works are not beta read. All mistakes are my own.  
> I can be found at theseeyesofmine or wordslikelightning on Tumblr if anyone is interested.


End file.
